


Not Gods or Men

by espark



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Assassin's Creed Odyssey - Freeform, Defying Fate, F/F, Fate & Destiny, Kissing, Romance, Self-Fulfilling Prophecy, What is an ancient Greek story without a carefully worded, the Battle of the One Hundred Hands, unavoidable prophecy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 13:15:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18550519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/espark/pseuds/espark
Summary: Kassandra looked out across the roiling sea and said, "It feels like the gods created the Battle of the One Hundred Hands just for me.”Barnabas misinterpreted the gloom in her voice. “Do you doubt you’ll find a sponsor in time?”“No, I have a sponsor.”“Then what is the problem?”“My sponsoristhe problem.”





	Not Gods or Men

Kassandra pulled herself over the railing of the Adrestia and took command at the stern. 

“Where to, captain?” Barnabas asked. 

She stared out at the wine dark sea, weighing her choices. After her night with Roxana, no matter what path she chose, it would be painful, to her pride, her heart, or her bones. 

Barnabas stood by, steadfast and silent. He understood not to rush her.

Finally she asked him, “Barnabas, have you heard of the Battle of the One Hundred Hands?”

“Aye. It is a glorious competition and draws the most talented warriors from all over the world. The only trouble is getting a sponsor. I imagine it would be perfect for you, if you could find someone to vouch for you.”

She looked out across the roiling sea. “Yes, it feels like the gods created the spectacle just for me.”

Barnabas misinterpreted the gloom in her voice. “Do you doubt you’ll find a sponsor in time?”

“No, I have a sponsor.”

“Then what is the problem?”

“My sponsor _is_ the problem.”

Kassandra remembered being drawn to Roxana from the start. She’d been impressed by her beauty, but also at her abilities. When Roxana had lamented the lack of a worthy sparring partner, Kassandra couldn’t let the challenge pass. The way the had woman moved with grace, intensity, and purpose had physically taken hold of Kassandra, as fierce as a lynx digging into her body. 

_If this is how magnificently Roxanna fights in battle, how fierce would she move in my arms?_

It wasn’t until they’d raced to the top of the hill, both breathing hard and smiling like they’d both won the foot race, did it dawn on Kassandra the dilemma with which she’d be faced if Roxana sponsored her in the tournament. 

Like a wild boar charging out of the brush, Roxana had brought the problem out into the open. “At the battle we may have to fight each other. And only one will survive.”

How could Kassandra reconcile the connection she felt with Roxana with the ultimatum to kill her in battle? The temptation of the Battle of the One Hundred Hands was as strong as her desire to press her lips onto Roxana’s. 

Kassandra had dodged the question as easily as she dodged a Spartan spear, redirecting the thrust of the conversation. “I thought you came up here to live in the moment?” she asked.

Roxana had pounced on the opening, moving closer, “How’s this for in the moment?”

“Let’s make it more than a moment,” Kassandra had said, reaching for Roxana and kissing her.

The scent of ripe pomegranates mingled with the tang of their sweat and the salty sea air. Kassandra had focused on the savory taste of Roxana’s skin, the rhythmic motion of Roxana’s body against hers, and the eager sounds of Roxana’s pleasure piercing the evening air.

“So, you’ve met your match?” Barnabas’s question drew Kassandra back to the predicament at hand. 

“Yes, and I’m sure that if I enter the tournament, I will be forced to face her. I will either fail to be crowned the victor or sacrifice her life to save my pride.” 

“That sounds like a prophecy to me. Be careful or you might become the next Oracle.”

She rebelled at the idea. “What if I refuse to participate in the Battle of One Hundred Hands and leave her in peace?” 

Barnabas shrugged. “You said yourself the Battle is your destiny. A hero cannot avoid their fate, any more than a wave can avoid the shore, and those that try only break all the harder.” 

Kassandra stood upon the deck, letting the rhythm of the ocean carry her up and down, and she knew Barnabas was right. The Battle of One Hundred Hands was her fate.

“Set a course for Melos Island.”

***

Kassandra found Drakios, the organizer of tournament, outside the Melos Temple, calling for warriors to join the competition. Drakios sounded just like the fishmongers and oil merchants hawking their wares to anyone who would listen.

Kassandra approached and said, “I’m interested in competing in this… What did you call it?”

Drakios eyed her skeptically and said, “The Battle of One Hundred Hands draws warriors from all corners of the Greek world and is backed by the most influential people in the Greek world. The purse is always growing.”

Kassandra’s ears snagged on the mention of influential people. Could the Cult be involved? She needed to know, but like any good hunter, she didn’t want to scare off her prey before it was secure in her sights. 

She probed carefully, “If you mean the people I think you mean, then I would like to meet them and… have a few words”

“Indeed they are the kind of people I would never speak about openly. You know you do look like someone I’ve met before, another fierce warrior. Family resemblance, perhaps?”

That was all Kassandra needed to push farther. “You mean Deimos? Then this battle is backed by the Cult.”

“Become a champion of the Battle of One Hundred Hands, and I’ll tell you what I know.”

Kassandra’s mind whirled. The tournament was no trial of the gods, no fateful reckoning. It was just a scheme by the Cult of Kosmos. It had to be stopped. She considered striking at Drakios right then and burning the arena to the ground. But what of Roxana? She had dreamed of this opportunity for years and trained every day to become the Champion. If Kassandra explained the situation with the Cult to her, would Roxana even listen? Could Kassandra take that dream away from her? 

“I want to fight in the Battle,” Kassandra said. 

She had come this far; she would follow her fate through to the end.

***

The moment Kassandra saw Roxana across the agora, regret slashed at her like a dagger. She took a deep breath, banishing the pain. Self-doubt was a good way to get killed. Through most of Drakios’ speech, she avoided looking in Roxana’s direction, but when he said, “The final two will face off on a special battlefield, but only one will be called Champion,” she couldn’t help but turn to Roxana. 

The dark-skinned woman stood proud, arms crossed and confident in the blazing sun. Kassandra caught sight of a rivulet of sweat trailing down Roxana’s neck, reminding Kassandra of the taste of her. How could she send her spear into such a lovely neck?

_If she turns, if she looks to me, I’ll talk to her. We don’t have to do this._

But Roxana did not turn. Her gaze stayed fixed on the tournament director. Kassandra swallowed hard and turned her attention back to Drakios and the competition. 

***

As she entered the battle grounds, Kassandra was relieved to see only men arrayed along the ramparts. She wouldn’t have to fight Roxana, not yet.

Kassandra relaxed into the patterns of battle, jabbing, dodging, blocking, disemboweling. Perhaps, she would not face Roxana in battle today after all. Perhaps someone else would strike her down. She imagined bowman sending an arrow through her lover’s supple neck, a quick death. That might be a small kindness. But then again, when were the fates ever kind?”

As she defeated more and more rivals, Kassandra kept looking for Roxana among the dead. Her relief at not seeing Roxana during the battle gradually turned to anxiety. Finally, she was the last one standing and Drakios approached on the parapet, slowly clapping as if she was a costumed actor before an amphitheatre and not a blood drenched warrior surrounded by dead bodies.

“Is there a final challenger?” Kassandra called out. She dreaded the answer as much as she needed to know.

“Indeed there is. Patience Kassandra, patience.”

“Tell me Drakios!” Kassand shouted, “Is it Roxana? Is she alive?”

Then Kassandra saw Roxana approach, in all her beauty and glory. Her heart twisted in agony as she fought against the urge to embrace the fighter. Kassandra’s relief at seeing her lover still alive immediately turned sour at the thought of what was to come. Fate had brought them to this deadly moment, like the river Styx flowing towards Hades. She didn’t trust herself to speak and only nodded at the inevitability. 

The two women climbed to the ruined temple overlooking the sea. The smell of sulfur was strong and the dark volcanic soil crunched beneath her boots. Drakios was there too, smug as bear who’d found a honeycomb. She wanted to kick him off the cliff and watch his body plunge into the water below.

“Our patrons demand a champion.” Drakios commanded. “Finish this. Only one of you can walk away the champion.”

Defiance swelled inside Kassandra. She remembered what she’d said to Barnabas, her own prediction, that she would either fail to win the championship or sacrifice her heart. Yet how could she live with herself if she killed someone she loved? Kassandra made her choice. 

Kassandra looked Roxana in the eyes and said, “We can lay down out weapons. There is nothing more to prove.”

Roxana’s reply fierce. “The stakes were clear from the beginning, Kassandra. Don’t do this. I’m so close.”

Drakios called out, “Enough, the battle must end now!”

Kassandra kept her voice calm, targeting Roxana with her words as steadily as she aimed her bow at a lion about to pounce. “No. Roxana. We decide how this ends. Not him.”

***

Kassandra returned to the Adrestia as the rosy fingered dawn stretched out across the sky. She stowed the gleaming new sword she had taken from Drakios and turned to greet Barnabas.

“So, you won the tournament,” the shipmaster said. “Was the reward worth the sacrifice?’’

 

“I came away with a beautiful prize, but thankfully, the only thing that I had to sacrifice was my pride.”

Then, Roxana hopped over the railing as easily as Kassandra had, and stood beside her, more glorious than ever. Kassandra sent a silent prayer of gratitude to the gods for blessing her with such a marvelous companion.

“Barnabas, this is Roxana. She will be joining the crew as one of our lieutenants.”

“You defied your own prophecy then?” Barnabas asked, amazed.

Kassandra looked at Roxana and smiled, “Not quite. Roxana and I will be the ones who decide our fate, not gods or men.”


End file.
